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Poem About My Ninth Birthday (June 17th, 1967) And What, Both Sooner And Later, Followed
My ninth birthday: my parents' gift, a small telescope,
but they soon forbade its late night use.
I wondered why this contradictory rule came to pass;
like, clad in sleeveless tee and jeans,
I could not walk barefoot on our backyard's grass:
because they said, at the time, "Barefoot means
"you may be like a hippy, a subversive, and we refuse
"to allow that. With such a problem we will not cope."
But even forbidden, my interest in astronomy
led to my love and devotion to Poetry---
which, in my parents prejudice (and subtle attempts at coercion)
was the real, and most threatening, subversion.
Years later, at college, I did something that would appall
them ("Call the thought police! Tell them come running. Bring local cops!")
Clad like my classmates (polo shirts, baggy' jeans), I carried my flipflops,
as most of them did, to to class, or the library, or the dining hall.
Starward
